4AM
by Katastrophehusband
Summary: Patty Walters, LukeIsNotSexy, DeeFizzy, thisbedottie, Emma Blackery and VeeOneEye. Teenage AU.
1. Chapter 1: I'm Sorry (Jason)

I laid on my bed in the dark, anxiously waiting for a reply to the message I sent out to my friends. The blackness around me felt lonely and consuming as I pressed the home button on my iPod, typed in my passcode and was taken to my messages over and over again. The time centred on the top of my iPod mocked me. 4:33AM. Of course no one would reply to my cryptic message at this hour. I copy and pasted the same message to each of them - _"im sorry" _

4:35. I felt my anxiety building up in my chest. To distract myself, I decided to look though the photos on my camera roll. The first picture was a selfie I took with my friend, Patty. I looked at this picture for a long time. It was a pretty old photo. My hair was still a huge puffball on my head, but it was white instead of blue. I wore a plain grey shirt and Patty wore a black band shirt that read "BRAND NEW" on the top in white capital letters. Hiding his hair was a light grey beanie. I spent a while staring at his hair, debating on whether it was light brown or dirty blond. My tears blurred my vision, so I couldn't tell.

I looked through the rest of my pictures quickly. Familiar faces appeared on the screen- Luke, Dottie, Damon- people that meant a lot to me. I couldn't stand to see their faces for an extended amount of time. Seeing us smiling and laughing made me begin to regret what I was about to do. I locked my iPod and turned on the lamp on my nightstand. Sitting on my bed, I stared at my room. Clean and organised, unlike it is usually. I tidied up yesterday because I figured that whoever found me shouldn't have to deal with the additional clutter along with my bodily mess. I sighed and stood up. In my boxers still, I walked to the downstairs bathroom, where I finally got a good look at myself. I looked like shit.

My eyes were bloodshot. Puffy and swollen from crying. My nose was red and snotty and I just looked like an over-all mess. I decided to wash my face, engulfing it with cold water that eased and soothed my eyelids. After blowing my nose and staring at myself again, I dug around in the drawers until I found it. Its shiny metal surface gleaming in the fluorescent lighting, calling out for me to embrace it once again.

I clenched the razor in my hand as I shut off the lights and ventured back to my room. 4:57. My dimly lit room only highlighted my insecurities in my mirror. I took my boxers off so I could see every bit of me, nude and vulnerable, trembling in the mirror. "Pathetic." I whispered to myself. "You're pathetic." The razor in my hand was burning my skin as if it was on fire. I I clenched my fist and stared at it. I laughed weakly though my nose as it stared back at me. How could tiny bit of metal control my life this easy? A dinging interrupts my thoughts. Someone replied.

_"Why? What's going on?"_ I read on my lock screen. Patty. My heart sank and felt like it was stabbed when I read his name. Seeing those words laid out on the screen made me feel more guilty about the events to come. I let the screen fade to black as I sat on my bed and let the razor glide into my skin slowly and with ease. The numb before the burn present, my iPod dinged again. _"Jason. What's going on? Are you okay?_" I pressed the lock button to black out my guilt as the burning took place and blood began to seep out of my thigh. Then, faster and with greater force, I dug into myself again. Suddenly, I began to viciously attack my thighs, not thinking. When they got bloodied up, I moved to my left wrist. Not three cuts in, the dinging interrupted again.

_"Jason. Please. I'm worried about you."_ I unlocked my iPod and replied to the messages. _"Relapse._" Almost immediately, Patty messaged back, _"No. Why?"_ I thought about that, as the texts came in sentence by sentence, quickly._ "No more. Please. How bad are you still bleeding? I'm sorry I didn't reply sooner."_ Overwhelmed, I idly sent a response _"i haven't cleaned up. its okay."_ I stared at the grey blinking ellipsis in a thought bubble, signifying that Patty was typing. _"Jasonnnnn. Wash up, at least. I want to meet up so I can bandage it for you. Please."_ I sighed, almost in relief. Patty would be the friend to react this way. The time mocked me once again. 5:27._ "we can't meet now. i'm fine, really. i'll clean up." _I replied. _"I want to make sure you're safe. Do you know how to clean up properly? Wash your hands before you disinfect and then wrap up. And don't wrap too tight."_ Patty sent. I didn't reply. I cleaned up carefully, my skin burning and the cuts puffy. I'd see the damage tomorrow, when the swelling went down. Turning the light off, the exhaustion hit me. My eyes heavy, the brightness of my iPod burning my eyes, I messaged Patty again._ "i was so close to two months. i feel so stupid." _

_"Just try again. Relapse is a part of recovery. You can make a month. Two. You can make year. Two. Three. I know you can. You almost had two months you can get there again! Throw the razors out."_ I read the message over and over. I felt a rush of calm wash over me, erasing the former melancholy running through my veins. I felt warm inside. Not happy, but not as suicidal anymore. No more tears escaping and running down my cheeks. I closed my eyes, but opened them again when another message came. "_Jason. I love you. Go to sleep. Come over when you wake up tomorrow." _


	2. Chapter 2: The Breakfast Club (Jason)

I woke up a few times that morning. Once at 9:30, then at 11:00, and finally at 2:00, when I decided to finally get up. That's how it goes whenever I don't have school. I go to bed early in the morning and wake up in the afternoon. The latest I ever got up was at 6:00PM. My mum was so scared that I was ill, she wanted to take me to the hospital. Whenever I wake up late, I feel pathetic because I wasted precious hours of life. This particular day, though, I felt numb.

I got up and the cuts on my thighs burned. I felt the skin of my right thigh under my boxers. It was warm and raw. I didn't properly bandage up like Patty told me to. I was too tired, and I didn't care about myself enough for sterilisation. I always promised Patty I'd clean up after cutting, and I never did. All I did this time was scrape the crusted blood off my leg with a razor and go to sleep. Now I felt the burn. I took a cold shower, being careful of touching that part too hard, and that helped a bit. I slipped on tan shorts that covered half of my thigh—just perfect for where I had cut. I settled on a tie-dyed shirt as a top. I slipped on black vans and went downstairs to eat.

"Good afternoon, Jason." My mum greeted me. "Afternoon." I replied, and began making myself a sandwich. "You feeing alright, hun? You slept a lot." Mum asked. She was oblivious to the fact that I went to sleep at around 5:30AM. She thought I fell asleep around 9:30PM. "Yeah, I'm alright. I was thinking about going over to Patty's today." I spread mayonnaise on a slice of white bread and got ham out of the fridge as mum read from her gardening magazine. "Sounds fun. When will you be coming home?" She asked. I shrugged as I put ham on the bread. "Dunno. We'll be working on a Chemistry project for our final, so I might need to spend the night." I lied. The last day of school was on Thursday the following week. I took all but one final already. Mum didn't know that, though. I was a good liar. "Alright. Call me from Patty's phone if you'll be staying." She said, and went to join my dad in the living room. I ate my sandwich quick and went back up to my room to put some clothes in my backpack.

Ever since I told Patty I cut myself in the eighth grade, this has been our routine. The day after I relapsed, we would spend time together and if I could, I would spend the night at his house. We'd watch movies and talk all night. That's what was so great about Patty. He was such a great person and an even better friend. He genuinely cared about his friends and would drop everything to comfort one when needed. When Luke's dad got real ill, Patty would always check in on Luke and give him rides to the hospital because his mum didn't drive. When Damon broke up with his girlfriend and got depressed, Patty would always be by his side. When I relapse, he's always patient as I try to explain my thoughts and he always checks up on me. I think every person in the world deserves a friend like Patty Walters. I'm so lucky to have found him. He was the first friend I met when I moved to America when I was nine.

As I got to Patty's house, his mum was just leaving. She was in a rush and gave me a quick smile on her way to her car. Patty's mum was an obstetrician, and she probably had a patient that needed her immediate attention because a baby was coming. Patty's dad, on the other hand, was a social worker. They both worked a lot, so we usually had a lot of privacy. I walked in and saw that Patty was sitting on the living room couch, looking bothered by something. When he saw me, his facial expression changed. "Jason! How are you?" He asked, getting up and giving me a hug. I shrugged.

"I'm okay. I didn't do a good job cleaning up last nights mess. It burns a bit." I said. Patty's eyes trailed down to my shorts. "Can I see?" He asked. I slightly pursed my lips as I lifted up a bit of the right side, revealing a path of pink and bumpy sliced skin. "Fuck." Patty said. "Hold on. Sit down." He told me, as he left the room. I sat on the couch and turned my eyes to the TV. Patty was watching The Breakfast Club. It was on the part where Judd Nelson is leading everyone down the school halls and they're about to get caught by the principal. They hit a dead end and Emilio Estevez is arguing with Judd, and Molly Ringwald is arguing too, saying that they'll all get caught because they listened to Judd. Bender, Judd Nelson's character, says that only he will get caught. He tells them to run and then creates a ruckus as the rest of the group runs away so that the principal would find him. He sacrificed himself in order to save his peers.

Patty came back with a first aid kit and an ice pack. He sat next to me and started to take out supplies. He stopped and looked back at me. "Do you want me to do it?" He asked. I nodded because I had no idea what the hell I would do with the supplies. I took off my shorts and rolled up my boxers and he looked at my bare thighs for a slight moment. He wasn't looking at my thighs though, he was looking at the cuts. He then began to dab on disinfectant that burned. "_Fuck!_" I gasped and Patty quickly jerked the cotton ball off my leg in shock. "Sorry, sorry! I have to." I bit my lip as he continued to clean my cuts. After that, he looked at them closely to determine which ones were deep and which ones were shallow. He put disinfecting cream on the deeper ones and put gauze squares over them. He then secured the gauze with medical tape.

After he finished, I put my shorts back on and put the ice pack over my right side. "I'm glad you told me you relapsed. Your cuts aren't very deep, so they'll heal normally. Do you want to talk about it?" Patty asked. I gave him a slight smirk. "Not right now." Patty told me it was okay, and we watched the rest of The Breakfast Club. We ate terrible food and watched a few more movies. At the end of She's All That when Rachel Leigh Cook and Freddie Prinze Jr kiss, I nudged Patty playfully and said "It's like you and Dottie." To which Patty scoffed "As if. We broke up."

"Are you serious? Why?" I asked, looking at him. Patty shrugged, trying to play it off like he didn't care. Then his bottom lip crinkled up and he dropped his head down toward his lap to hide his face. "I don't know. She just..." He said, his voice cracking. I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, not saying anything. "I blew her off too many times for everyone... To give Luke and Damon rides, to spend time with you. It wasn't fair to her. She's kinda had it, you know?" Patty explained after a while. With his breathing rugged due to the crying and my arm still around him, I felt stuck. I didn't know what to say, and I felt like shit.

"I'm sorry, Patty." I said, because what else was there to say? I am and have always been the worst at comforting people, and in this case I was essentially the fuel to the flame. I was like an earthquake that made rocks come tumbling down and crush anything below them. In that moment, I realised that Patty was our Bender. He sacrificed so much to the point where it left him in ruins, and here I was, picking up the pieces.


	3. Chapter 3: Are You Awake? (Jason)

Patty and I talked for a long time that night. At first we talked more about him and Dottie, how he wanted her back and how he hurt in places of his heart he didn't know could hurt. Then we talked about me and my cutting, then we talked about little things like memories with Luke and Damon. Dottie came up again after that. We listened to music and the conversation didn't stop until Patty's dad came home and we had dinner. After that, we talked until the ungodly hours. We were in his room at that point.

Patty's room is so different than mine. For one, its huge and always very clean and organised. It always smells fresh like it's just been vacuumed. A big window is the first thing visible when you walk in. Below the window was his desk that always had lyrics and writing projects he was working on neatly arraigned on top of it. The walls are painted a soft and calming pale blue colour and he has a few posters from different bands hung up. His bed was a loft bed with a couch on the bottom of it and stairs on the side. The bed was facing his dresser on the other wall. His stereo was in the centre of his dresser and CDs were in two CD holders on either side of it. On the wall above it was his TV. In his dresser drawers were more movies than clothes. It was no shock to learn Patty came from money. He wasn't a dick about it, but it was easy to be jealous.

I laid on the couch as Patty was above me, in his bed. The lights were off, and The Shining was playing in front of us with the volume down so low, you couldn't hear the movie. Patty looked super tired when he was going up to lay down, and I was deliriously tired as well. I began to drift in and out of sleep. I heard Patty whisper my name a few times, along with "Are you awake?" but I was too tired to talk. Before I went to sleep for good, I heard him whisper once again, mostly to himself. _"I wish I had your life."_

The next few days went by quickly. It was the last week of my Patty and Dottie's junior year, Damon's sophomore year and Luke's senior year (which he had to retake). In a few months, my best friends and I would be seniors. Everyone got their yearbooks and they were constantly out in class because we were pretty much done with our finals. I got a few signatures from teachers, some from acquaintances, and the obvious friends. On the last day of school, we were all sitting in our usual lunch spot at a table near the office. Patty was to my left, Damon sat next to him, and Luke and Dottie sat to my right.

"I failed my finals. How do teachers expect us to remember that much stuff, anyways? It's stupid." Luke complained. I shrugged and Damon piped up. "It's the district. They have requirements that the teachers have to meet, and the teachers are required to test us on specific things. It's not the teachers' idea to test on so much." Luke made a disgusted face. "That's dumb. Can't they see we're way overworked?" He asked. A rhetorical question, but Dottie replied with "Probably. But they don't care." Patty, clearly still feeling awkward around Dottie, picked at his salad as Luke went on, "I'm going to literally light myself on fire if I get Mr. Richards again for gov. He'd the worst." Damon made a disgusted sound. "Don't even think about next year when this one hasn't even ended yet. You're giving me anxiety." He said, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"I can't stop thinking about it. This place is a plague. It sucks ass. I already wasted four years in this place, guys. They expect me to do another. I can't." Luke said. He hated school. I, however, thought pretty highly about our school. It's got a great video program, and the teachers actually care about teaching, not just their pay checks. I remember one time last year in biology, Luke fell asleep after a test and Mrs. Ferguson made everyone be quiet so we wouldn't wake him. The school had been extra nice to him especially, but he didn't seem to see it that way.

"Stop being a downer, Luke. Worry about it later. We've got movies and drinks tonight, right Patty?" Damon nudged Patty with his elbow. Patty took his eyes up from his salad and meekly said "Yeah.." His voice trailed on, as if there was something he wasn't saying. No one else picked up on the unevenness of his voice, because they started talking about who was bringing what to Patty's.

It went like this:

A Saturday out of the month every month we would all gather at Patty's and watch a movie and get as drunk as we could without Patty's brain dead parents noticing. I think they knew we drank, though I'm not sure that they actually cared. We all played a part in ensuring that our movie night went well. Luke was the oldest and had a fake ID to buy the booze, Patty had the biggest house and the biggest movie collection and the rest of us (me, Dottie and Damon) brought food. Every time, someone vowed to not drink so they could drive the rest home. This day was a Thursday, but since it is a special occasion, we decided to have the movie night a bit earlier.

Patty anxiously pressed the home button on his phone. "11:48. In less than fifteen minutes, this year will officially be over." He announced. After everyone said their good riddances, Luke's face changed as he turned to me. "Jace. I didn't sign your yearbook yet." He told me. I had a bad feeling as I handed him the book to sign. The next couple of minutes were spent taking about next year, our anxieties and all. We promised to meet in the same place for lunch next year. When the bell rang, Luke handed me my yearbook back and scurried off. I looked at it on the bus later on. Just as I'd suspected, a veiny, big balled cartoon penis under a messily-scribbled banner that read _"See you next year! - Luke"_


	4. Chapter 4: Teen Hearts (Patty)

**A/N: A review said that in the last chapter, Patty wouldn't be drinking because he's straight edge. I'm aware of this fact. This is an AU. Patty hasn't always been sxe, so I'm referring to a time before he found edge. **

* * *

Jason and I have taken the school bus together since freshman year. We usually sit next to each other and talk the whole ride in order to kill time. It was an hour long bus ride, and it was full of annoying people that neither of us liked. That day, we sat at the back of the bus. I had too much on my mind and was unusually quiet. Jason was flipping through his yearbook, rereading the signatures while I was totally silent. I was thinking about how uncomfortable I was every time my friends came over to get drunk, and how I was always the designated driver.

I never felt comfortable in situations like those. Every party I was alone, watching everyone around me get wasted, act stupid like totally different people while intoxicated. Hanging out in dark, wet parks at night with a group of drunk or high people who laughed at things that weren't funny and got confused at things that weren't confusing wasn't at all appealing to me, especially when I was peer pressured. I never felt like it was a necessary part of teenagehood to get drunk or smoke, but I gave in a lot of times, because that's what everyone else seemed to think. Hangovers aren't fun and I could never get the hang of smoking. I choked when I smoked and puked up my guts when I drank. I never got why anyone found that fun.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked. "Yeah, of course." Jason replied. I began to feel a wave of anxiety starting to form. "These movie nights. They always make me feel... Weird." I began, inhaling and exhaling loudly. "Uncomfortable." I elaborated, bouncing my left knee anxiously. "Yeah? Why's that?" Jason asked. I realised I was moving and stopped bouncing as I slightly shrugged, pretending it was no big deal. "The drinking. It's lame. I don't like it." I said. "I just decided that I don't want to do it anymore. Drinking, I mean." Jason nodded.

"That's cool. I don't really like it either. I just do it because it's there." He said, and I believed him. I smiled, feeling very relieved. I was putting a lot of thought into drugs and my distaste for them and was nervous about telling someone. I figured that Jason, one of the most serious friends I had, was the one to begin with.

When I got home, no one was there and I went straight to my room. I put on a mix CD that Damon made for me. The cover was unlike usual ones he made. Usually, he made the cases nice and carefully drawn or collaged, but this one was different. The background was black, and the title, "_I'm trying really hard to get into this music_" was printed out in 14 point Times New Roman font and taped on the black background. I laid on my bed as the first song engulfed me. I got lost in the pop punk tracks and closed my eyes. Before I knew it, I was asleep, but I didn't dream. For a few minutes, it was just black. I woke up feeling calm. I looked at my phone and saw I was sleeping for just under fifteen minutes.

I unlocked my phone and began to type, "_I'm listening to the CD you made me._" I sent the message and closed my eyes again. The lyrics hit me like a physical form.

_Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed? When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress..._

My phone dinged and I read his response as the song continued. "_Which one?_" Chills ran down my spine as Brendon Urie continued singing, _When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin... _I respond with "_'I'm trying so hard'_"

_I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me. Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of exchanging body heat in the passenger seat...  
_  
Damon's next text comes in as the song continued, _No, no, no, you know it will always just be me.._

"_That one means a lot to me_."

_Let's get these teen hearts beating faster, faster. _

Everyone came over at 6:30, but Damon came at 8:30. His parents are super religious and made him go to church that night. He always had to play this good boy act around his parents, so he always listened to them. He was a good guy, but not goody-goody, Christian, study-for-fun good. His parents were convinced he was, though.

He got to my house around the time that the Ju-on ended. Dottie left in the middle of the movie, so it was just Damon, Jason, Luke and I. We put on some bad horror movie and talked through it. After the movie, I drove Jason and Luke home and Damon stayed over for a while.

In my room, I put on the same CD I was listening to before everyone came over. The first song, Addicted by Simple Plan played as we sat down on the couch next to each other.

"How was church?" I asked. Damon shrugged. "The same. It's so draining. I feel senile." I gave a sympathetic "Ugh, that's horrible" and started playing with his hands. There was red in the spaces between his nails and skin on each of his fingers and thumbs, signifying that he'd been biting his nails out of anxiety. "Yeah..." Damon said, scooting closer to me and resting his head on my shoulder. I kissed the top of his head and kept staring at his hands. "You don't let your nails grow before biting them, that's bad." I said. He blew a laugh out of his nose. "My nerves don't let me." He looked at his hands and broke away from me. "Hold on a sec." He said, leaving the room.

I sat back, thinking about everything that's happened and everything that's yet to come. Damon came back with nail polish. "Want to?" He asked, handing me it. I smile at him and nod and he goes back to where he was, snuggled against my neck and shoulder. I take his right hand and start to paint his nails this blue green colour with a metallic tint to it. I messed up a lot, but he smiled at me when I finished and kissed me on the cheek. I kissed him back and we sat there, cuddling in a comfortable silence as the CD played Going Away to College by Blink-182.

_...If young love is just a game, then I must have missed the kick-off. Don't depend on me to ever follow through on anything but I'd go through hell for you and I haven't been this scared in a long time and I'm so unprepared so here's your valentine. Bouquet of clumsy words, a simple melody. This world's and ugly place, but you're so beautiful to me. _

4AM is a time where most people are asleep. To some people, it's a time of reflection where they over think and over analyse and get closer to the edge. 4AMs have changed drastically since I've gotten closer to Damon. A cursed time of day full of self-hate and guilt was transformed into a calm time where I was dreaming of him. I felt his arms around me and his lips touching mine openly, where anyone could see. In reality, we had to obsessively watch our every single move, my 4AM dreamland was where we could be free. I kissed him, he kissed me, and the feeling in my stomach was butterflies instead of knots.


	5. Chapter 5: Silenced Prayers (Patty)

About a week after the first movie night of the summer, Damon and I met up. It was 10:30PM and Damon and I were at Clemente park, the only place we could get privacy. Whenever phone calls and texting sweet nothings wasn't enough, we met up here, where we could finally physically touch. Clemente was a big park, with a play structure and a big, open grassy area. This is where our friends held their midnight heavy-drinking, passing-out vomit parties that Damon never really went to because of his curfew.

Damon's parents were really nice, dont get me wrong. But most of the time, they were overbearing. They had such high expectations for him. Grades came first with family and church as a very close second. If he had anything that wasn't an A, they'd have his head. He had to make time for studying, praying, and family nights, so he could never hang out for long. He was constantly studying because of his fear of failure. He was a perfectionist because he was raised to be. He had a tight curfew that wasn't open to compromise, he was required to go to church every time his parents did, he wasn't allowed to slack off in school or else he wasn't allowed to talk to anyone or go out at all. Damon was allowed to have girlfriends, but he never had one for obvious reasons. That was another thing that wasn't open to compromise. His family was the typical, all-American, religiously oppressive and homophobic family. Not to say that all religious people are homophobic. Damon's parents would still be homophobic without their religion. That's just the way it is.

So we were constantly stuck in this position. In a dark, damp and smelly park, hidden in the back, sitting at a gazebo. It wasn't the way either of us would prefer it, but it was one of the only ways it would work. Clemente park is in the middle of both our houses. It's easier for him to sneak out to a park than to my house. This was how we were able to be close. Many nights were spent at Clemente park, our secrets in the air and our bodies pushed together in order to keep warm. Three long years. That's how long we've hid out here, late at night. Three years is a long time to hide something so huge.

We sat and talked for a while, about nothing. I played with his hands and hair, braiding it a bit and sticking dandelions in it. There were comfortable pauses in the conversation and I kissed him without holding back. I got home and quietly returned to my room at 12:00. I immediately went back into my normal, anxious, secretive and timid self.

The only time our secret has slipped out and been revealed to anyone unintentionally was when we went to Disneyland a little less than half a year ago. It was me, Damon, Jason, Luke, Dottie and our friend, Nate. Nate's a cool guy. He's smart, really great at art, and can be quite wordy at times. He's real skinny —practically bone— with an undercut that's light brown. He's tall when he's not in his wheelchair. He stands 6'4, but in his chair, he's just under 5". We all met at school. He was in Luke's grade, but due to medical problems, he stopped going to public school and graduated a year early.

Disneyland is exciting and fun, but going with Nate, I realised that I really took my health and able-body for granted. In situations where you're excited, you tend to move or walk fast/run to where you want to go. This isn't entirely possible for Nate. He has to push himself or be pushed, and you can only go so fast with his wheels. Spending a full day at the park isn't possible for him because part of his disability leaves him chronically and easily fatigued. We agreed that whenever he needed a break, a few of us would stay with him while he rested. Mid-day, when he said he began to feel drained, Damon and I stayed with him while he rested in order to give his body a break.

"Fatigue. Again. I'm sorry. One of the most strenuous parts of my disability is that I fatigue easily. My days of being out 8:00 to 12:00 without ever needing to take a break are long gone. You guys could have stayed with the rest. I'm fine alone." he told us, as we were sitting at a space between the Matterhorn line and the Finding Nemo submarines, an area with a great view of the water and the Monorail. We told him it was fine and that we were glad to stay with him. "This isn't something I had to deal with before. It's annoying and time consuming." Nate went on. "Yeah, but at least you get to skip to the beginning of lines and stuff." Damon said, which ticked Nate off and made him jump into a wordy fit where he explained to us what was problematic with what we were saying as able-bodied people. He pointed out that not every single ride was wheelchair accessible and even though he could stand up for a short amount of time, it's still not possible to get the full experience at the park like we could. Damon and Nate argued back and forth about being disabled and able-bodied and all the "benefits" from being disabled while I sat awkwardly in the middle of them, trying to get them to stop bickering.

"Ever since the dawn of life, people have faced change in the way they have to live and survive. We live in a time where change is constant. Sliced bread began in 1928. My grandmother was born in 1919. My grandmother had to adjust to sliced bread. I had to adjust to not being able to do stuff I used to be able to do. While you see line-skipping as beneficial, it's really not a special thing." Nate said, and I was trying to understand his point in all of the details he spouted. "My inability to function my legs properly leaves me unable to ride the fucking Nemo ride and do the Sleeping Beauty walkthrough castle. We sacrifice. If it were up to me, I'd be able-bodied and wait two hours in every damn line. But I don't have a choice. Adapt or perish. You wouldn't know about that, Damon. You've never had a problem fitting in or being anything but totally average in your life." This sort of attitude was unlike Nate's usual easy-going personality, so it took me by shock. Damon, however, wasn't as astound as me.

Similar to how Damon's original ignorant comment about having a disability being beneficial made something tick in Nate's brain, the words that came out of Nate made Damon irritated. "I have literally adapted because if I was my true self, it would make me a misfit. Adapt or perish is my life. Every time my parents preach eternal damnation and unholiness to the so-called homosexual lifestyle choice, my self esteem and worth decline and my prayers are silenced. I have tried to convert and so has Patty but it doesn't work. So we adapted. Because if not, we would perish. Don't assume shit about me, asshole." Damon said, without thinking. I think all of our eyes got wide and Damon ran his fingers though his hair and muttered "Fuck" as everyone sat awkwardly for a moment.

We then had to tell him the whole story. We've been together for years, no one knew before today, we don't plan on coming out. I was the first person Damon came out to, and I developed an attraction to him, but never any other guys. Dottie was a cover to make my straightness even more convincing. She didn't know. She would be even more angry with me. The original debate was settled, They both apologised, and the whole thing was forgotten and forgiven. Nothing's felt the same since.

At 4:23AM I hear a familiar text tone that's different from the regular one. It's Jason's custom text tone and the loudest, most obnoxious one. I set his as that specific one so if he texts me while I'm asleep, I'll wake up and can text him back right away. He probably thinks I stay up this late, but I don't. I've just gotten so many cryptic and scary early morning/late night messages. I don't want to ever be too late. He has no idea his texts wake me up, and I don't plan on telling him.

I unlocked my phone and my eyes adjusted to the brightness as I read, "911." Thats what I told him to text me in emergencies. I call right away, hearing the line ring only once before Jason picked up. "There's so much blood. I don't know what to do. Please help." He answered right away, his voice adamant with fear. He had been crying. He was still crying.

"Okay, okay. Apply pressure, I'll be right there." I told him. With no time wasted, I snuck out as quietly and as fast as I could. Making my way to Jason's, a million thoughts I should have been thinking were lost. I had a one track mind, all I was focused on was getting to Jason. I felt no emotions other than my ambitious mindset. After entering Jason's room, everything moved fast and spilled out in a mess, and I couldn't help him cover up this time.


	6. Chapter 6: Breathing Underwater (Patty)

When I got to Jason's, I quickly realised that I had arrived to a scene that was straight out of a horror flick. Blood. Bright red all over. The zebra print sheets on Jason's bed were ruined. I gagged as I walked in. The air had a metallic smell to it. It was stuffy, in the way can feel the air enter your lungs as you inhale after a warm shower. It was also one of those smells that had a taste. Breathing in Jason's room was like licking a penny.

Every part of me, with every ounce of my being and all the depths of my soul, yearns to forget about this incident. I guess in order to forget or make peace with what happened, I have to acknowledge the fact that it happened, and the only after that, I am able to accept the events and then declare myself ready to move on. Before the first step of acknowledging that it happened, I have to replay the event in my head. I don't know if I'm ready.

I was laying on the couch below my bed six hours after the incident, staring above me. My hands were laid on top of each other as my arms laid across my chest. My head pounded, my chest ached and I couldn't get the images out of my mind. I heard the dialogue from hours ago echo in my head for the millionth time.

_"Jason… I can't fix this, we need to get you to the hospital for stitches." _

_"No doctors! No stitches! I can't." _

_"You have to, Jason. I don't know what to do! I'm calling 911." _

_"If I have to go to the hospital, I'm never talking to you again, I swear!" _

My door creaked and I didn't even bother looking to face who it was as they sat next to me, but on the floor. They put their hand on top of mine delicately. "You did the right thing." They told me. Rachel. I closed my eyes and they burned. I had been up too long with my thoughts. "Mom and Dad told me what you did. I'm proud of you." She continued. I shrugged. "I'm so tired." I told her, and it came out like a pathetic whisper. Her hand slipped away as she asked, "Can I do anything to help in any way?" My eyes open and I sat up. "Just sit with me." She took a seat next to me. I looked in front of me at the black TV screen and I felt her eyes on me. We sat in silence for a moment.

"He said he'd never speak to me again if I called for help." I said. "He didn't mean it. He'll be glad you did that for him." Rachel told me. I didn't listen. "There was so much blood. I don't understand how anyone could do that to themselves. I hate getting the slightest paper cut. I swear I could see his bone." I told my sister. "Well.. They prepare themselves, I guess. Paper cuts aren't intentional and these are. They're different." She told me. "Try to forget the blood, okay? And… People say things they don't mean when they're upset or scared. I bet after all this, he'll thank you" She continued. I thanked her, and she smiled as she went away. I was left alone with my thoughts again, and I didn't like it.

I'm mad at myself because I didn't realise that something bad was about to happen. I should have known something was up a few weeks ago. It was the eeriest, most unsettling thing. Jason called me up and said he had some stuff for me. So I went to his house, and he's sitting outside in his backyard, staring at the swig set—the same one we used to play on as kids. So I walked over and sat next to him and said "Hey." He didn't look at me as he muttered a "Oh, hi." I asked him what he was doing, and he maintained his gaze into nothingness as he shrugged. "Just sitting?" I asked. He nodded. Then I said something like, "Wow, just like old times, huh?" and that caught his attention. His gaze ended. He looked at me, hurt in his eyes, and said "Let's go inside." When we got to his room, he gave me a big box of stuff. Albums, video games and a spiral notebook. He said he was headed out, alone. He seemed like he was in a hurry. I left and didn't think anything else of it.

Over the past years, I saw a dramatic change in Jason. Everyone grows up. They change in maturity and looks while their taste constantly differs, but Jason was different. Ever since we were little, we've been really close. We'd have sleepovers a lot and shared secrets. We used to talk on the phone, giggling, laughing and conversing about nothing until my mom scolded me for using the line for _two hours_. Two hours felt like a second. My best childhood memories include Jason. He's easily my best friend, aside from Luke.

When we got a bit older, around age nine, things started to change. He stopped being himself. We still hung out, but he wasn't as uppity as he used to be. Then, later on, somewhere between grades seven and nine, I lost him completely. He was a stranger. He'd only come to me when he cut himself, and I felt like just a last-resort for him. Grades 10 and 11 was when we got closer again. We started hanging out more, and talking about more things. We updated each other on our different lives, and at some points, we laughed for hours like old times.

Even so, to this day, it doesn't feel exactly the same. Every time we're in a group with him, he's blank. When you ask him anything or even mention him, it takes him a few seconds to break his perfect thousand yard stare into nothingness before he engages. That stare is really scary. It's scary because that's not the Jason I grew up with. It's like that Jason has been sucked up into space and a new, blank slate of a Jason was left. As soon as he snaps back into reality, I catch a glimpse of the talkative, funny, smiley Jason I once knew. I used to think I would never get that Jason back. Now, I can only hope that he's getting there.

I still feel guilty, though. This Damon thing. It's been going on for so long. I feel like I'm living an anxiety-filled lie of a life and I want to feel right again. Maybe it's just guilt. Some part of me still feels weird about being gay. I think I'm guilty. There are so many people who picket against being gay and gay people having rights that I subconsciously feel like I am somehow in the wrong. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I do.

Ever since the summer before my freshman year and his eighth grade we've been hiding together. We knew about each other before that, but that's when it became official. My life is a huge mess of shame, guilt, and comforting others. People like Jason and Luke can wave their bisexual flags and proudly declare their sexuality, but that isn't me. Something is holding me back. I don't know why I don't just come out. Jason and Luke wouldn't judge me. But maybe they would because I'm not like them. I'm not bisexual. I've never been to a pride parade, but I feel it burning inside of me. I tried to push it away, but it didn't work. The guilt still lives on and haunts me at night.

I've gotten so close to telling Jason and Luke before. There was even one instance where I was asked by my own mother at the dinner table if I was gay, but I laughed it off and said I wasn't. Then, I cried silently in my room until I eventually fell asleep. Things like that tear me up inside because a part of me wants to scream, _"Yes, I'm gay! I'm really really gay and there's nothing wrong with that!"_ and anther part of me wants to run and hide. I know I can't live like this much longer. I'm sick. I'm so full of anxiety my mom has wanted me to go to the hospital once because she thought I was physically sick. All I want is to kiss Damon without being scared. I want to hold hands with him in public and have a public relationship status on Facebook like everyone else does. That kind of stuff is so normal for straight people. They really take it for granted.

My sexuality, my relationship, Jason and my friends have been putting me on edge. I'm far too paranoid for my own damn good. I hide myself, my attraction, everything about me. Sometimes, I feel like I'm underwater blindfolded in a straitjacket. Torture. Sometimes, just living life is torture.


End file.
